


Front Row Point of View

by peas_god



Series: I just love soulmate AUs so much [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ignis and Gladio are mentioned kinda, M/M, Pre-Slash, and one minor OC character, pre-game, technically two but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peas_god/pseuds/peas_god
Summary: Prompto has one of the most mundane soulmark wrapped around his left ankle and that’s fine, it could be worse. He can’t deny the relief his soulmark brings him.Because written into his skin are the words 'I hate carrots.'Good thing he doesn’t exactly mind carrots, he would eat his soulmate’s share of carrots for them.Carrots, of all things.Or: the one where instead of having the first thing they say tattooed on each other, they instead have a random sentence tattooed that their soulmate will say around them.





	Front Row Point of View

**Author's Note:**

> [ Idea ](http://virgno.tumblr.com/post/149729543490/soulmate-au-where-instead-of-having-the-first): Soulmates AU or where instead of having the first thing they say tattooed on each other, they instead have a random sentence tattooed that that person will say around them. And so you know it’s not just a coincidence when they say it, the tattoo stings and fades away.

Prompto is chill. He is fine. Everything’s _fine_.

It’s not like he’s feeling this burning sensation wrapping around his ankle. Nope, he can’t feel it.

What pain?

It’s definitely not the type of pain that is usually accompanied by a soulmate tattoo. _The_ soulmate tattoo. You know, the words that your soulmate will say to you at some point? That tattoo. Which is not definitely happening in the middle of the day, _of a school day_ , and definitely not happening during history.

And history, really? _History_? Of all the classes, it would be history. That one class where he doesn’t know anybody and where the teacher is as dull as a paperclip. Which is very offensive to the paperclip, honestly. If he tries hard enough, a paperclip could entertain him for an hour.

Unlike this history class.

There’s nothing to distract him from the not pain making its home on his left ankle. No Noct to bother, not even acquaintances. He tries to pay attention to the teacher but he knows that’s wasted effort.

Prompto still tries.

The monotone voice of the teacher only manages to hold his attention for 5 seconds. She’s reading directly from the book and wow, isn’t that interesting? It’s not like they could read from the book itself. Top notch voice inflection too. He wonders how she could maintain the same tone in every word she says.

She is very much like a text to speech app, but in human form.

Technology is amazing.

What is not amazing is that the pain is not going away and that he is really receiving his soulmate tattoo in the middle of history class. Which is unbelievable.

Is this for real?

Prompto could feel himself make an aborted effort of a sound. He can’t describe what kind of sound he was aiming for but all that came out was a small whimper. A manly whimper, he assures himself, but it was enough to catch the attention of Mrs. Monotone.

“Argentum, are you alright?” she asks, pausing from reading. Her tone completely different, all warm and concerned.

It’s unfair, Prompto thinks. Mrs. Johnson is a kind and caring woman, almost motherly. The way she teaches, however, can make even the most studious student bored. She sometimes brags about how easily she could make her kids fall asleep with her bed time stories and Prompto feels a bit bad that he thinks it’s because of how she reads aloud. It doesn’t make it any less true that her class is his least favorite simply because there’s nothing that could catch his attention and hold it.

“Argentum.” Mrs. Johnson says firmly. “Please speak up. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Prompto sits ramrod straight on his chair, not noticing that he had began to slouch when the pain started. “Mrs. Johnson,” he begins. “My- there’s this, uh.. pain? Yeah, pain. ”

He’s starting to stutter and this is so not fair.

“Argentum? What pain?”

Okay, he could do this. Deep breaths. Ignore the pain.

Why is it still burning?

It’s honestly not that bad. He’s had worse. It’s just very uncomfortable and the knowledge at what the pain signifies only doubles the feeling

“My ankle is burning, Mrs. Johnson.” Prompto manages to blurt out, looking meaningfully into her eyes. As meaningfully as he can, he supposes.

“Burning?”

It takes a while for her to understand what he’s not saying and he could see the moment that she does. Her eyes widen a fraction, as if she’s questioning him if it’s really happening right now, in the middle of her class.

He nods. Its not like he can exactly choose when he gets his soulmate tattoo, at least it’s with Mrs. Johnson and not a different teacher. She’s the most understanding of teenagers from the faculty, even if her class was not the best.

Silver linings.

Mrs. Johnson is quick to usher Prompto out of the classroom, with quiet instructions to go to the nurse’s office and to stay there for the remainder of her class. She assures him that he could go home, if he wants, just let the nurse message his parents and as soon as the burning subsides he’s good to go.

And as Prompto sits on one of the many beds inside the school clinic, he feels the pain receding. Soon enough, the pain is gone. He has already informed the nurse as to what’s happening and was mostly left alone for the past 15 minutes.

A soulmate tattoo, soulmark, is a very private matter. The nurse had only given Prompto a sympathetic look and an order to call for him if the pain becomes unbearable. Prompto only nodded and made a beeline to the nearest bed, removed his shoes, curled up and calmed his thoughts.

And here he is now, sitting on the edge of the bed with the curtains closed, his left ankle crossed and on his right knee. He wraps his hands around his ankle and takes a deep breath.

He feels his hands shaking.

There’s nothing to be afraid of, he assures himself. It’s just words. Words themselves aren’t scary, right? Essentially, they’re just a cluster of sounds. Who could be afraid of sounds?

Deep breaths.

Prompto gathers his courage and slowly lifts his pants, neatly folding them below his knee. He then carefully rolls his socks. It doesn’t hurt anymore, the skin is not tender and does not feel like an aftermath of a burn.

He’s not scared of words. He can do this.

What greets him after rolling his socks is clean handwriting. Small and evenly spaced. It feels familiar, somehow, almost as if he’s seen this before. But the words-

The words catches him off guard.

Prompto double checks and then triple checks the words printed on his skin. He looks at his ankle in different angles, pokes it with his finger. After assuring himself that the words were real and unlikely to change, he laughs.

He laughs with a somewhat manic edge, beaming at the words written on his left ankle. It was such a mundane thing to say, and he feels relief coursing in his veins from such a simple statement.

_‘I hate carrots.’_

Well, Prompto’s soulmate is in luck. He’ll eat their share of carrots for them. It’s the least he could do for his soulmate who hates carrots so much that it’s his soulmark.

 _Carrots_ , of all things.

 

* * *

 

 

Considering that Noctis is a prince and Prompto is a, well, a plebe, befriending him wasn’t that hard.

It was a nice feeling, being easily accepted as Noct’s friend. Prompto may have done it partly because of Princess Lunafreya, but it was mostly because Noct had looked…

Lonely.

Noct had looked lonely even when he was surrounded by people who adored him. The only few times Prompto had saw him be genuinely happy was when classes were dismissed and he was being picked up by either his adviser or bodyguard.

Prompto thinks that the big guy wasn’t simply his bodyguard though, more likely his shield with how frequent Prompto sees Noct with him.

(And he was correct, when Noct finally introduced him to Ignis and Gladiolus, the adviser and shield, respectively.)

It took him a few tries, after being satisfied with how he looked and how much his worth was, to gather up his courage and approach Noct. Securing his wrist band, he made a beeline straight to Noct after that day’s class. Careful of appearing too friendly with Noct, he introduced himself the way he had practiced in front of a mirror countless of times.

It was exhilarating, how easily Noct accepted his friendly gestures.

It was nice, having someone to wrap a friendly arm with.

It was…

It was unbelievable, honestly, as to how easily Noct wormed his way into Prompto’s heart and made a home inside.

That’s the thing about them really, how it’s not that surprising how they immediately clicked with each other.

They were just two lonely boys who wanted a friend.

 

* * *

 

 

The unique thing about soulmarks is that they’re not necessarily the first words your soulmate says to you. More often than not, it’s words that your soulmate says on a random day, a random moment. Words that are said suddenly and without thought, and replies that are of the same strand. Some are lucky enough to have very precise words, the kind that could only come from a certain type of person or even the type of exchange that is very specific and can only be done by that certain pair.

The other unique thing is as soon as the words leave from your soulmate’s mouth, the tattoo stings, not unlike the first time it appears, and then fades away.

“Soulmarks are odd things,” his mother says on the rare occasion that she’s not busy, “once you receive one, they won’t go away until your soulmate says them.”

“No matter what?” Prompto asks. They’re home, and he feels like a child again. With his head on his mother’s lap and her absentmindedly playing with his hair, braiding it and untangling the braid as soon as its finished, it reminds him of better times.

Times before his mother and father became too busy. Too busy with their research, too busy to spend time with him. He knows they love him, but they love their research more. They were scientists at heart and having him wasn’t exactly part of their plan. They tried, but they both have the habit of becoming too caught up with their studies. They became distant as soon as he’s old enough to take care of himself.

It’s fine.

They love him, they do, but-

He understands.

That doesn’t make it hurt less.

That doesn’t make him feel less lonely in his own home.

As soon as Prompto heard that his mother was coming home for the weekend, the first time in months, he steeled himself for the talk of soulmates. He never expressed interest in soulmates, he is not exactly the kind of person to have a soulmate in the first place.

The sheer relief he saw in his mother’s face came as a surprise to Prompto, when he finally gathered enough courage to tell her that his soulmark is wrapped around his ankle. When she saw his surprise she smiled sadly at him and ushered him to the couch.

And here they were now. Prompto with his head on his mother’s lap and feeling a lot younger than he actually was, talking about soulmates.

He feels raw and emotional but he ignores it, focusing on his mother. It’s rare for her to initiate something like this. It’s usually him that asks, that freely gives love to both her and his father. She looks so different from him, dark haired and tanned skin, but he loves her all the same.

He loves them both so much.

“No matter what,” she replies, “Even if the mark gets cut off, or the appendage it’s on gets amputated, the mark always reappears on a different position. Determined little thing, right?”

Prompto huffs out a laugh at that “Kinda morbid, mom. Tone it down a little. Aren’t we supposed to have a heart to heart?”

She smiles at him, the kind of smile that feels so fragile at the edges, and pats his face gently. “You have a soulmate,” she says, dark eyes suddenly serious, “don’t ever let go of them, once you find them.”

He doesn’t know what to say.

She must’ve felt his hesitance because she places her hand above his eyes, closing them gently.

“I may not have been the best parent, I know that Prompto,” she says in the darkness that engulfs him, voice soft and sad, “but I hope they see that you are worthy, that you are worth it.”

That’s the closest thing Prompto gets as an approval from his mother, the closest she’s ever got to admitting that they weren’t exactly the best of parents. But they try, and that is enough for him.

That no matter who his soulmate may be, the only thing she hopes is that he’ll be happy and that-

That almost makes him want to cry.

The talk of soulmates and soulmarks is something that Prompto often avoids. It’s not that he doesn’t want a soulmate, it’s that he is afraid that he’s not what his soulmate expects him to be. He’s nothing special, the most noteworthy thing is that he had somehow befriended a prince.

Though, Noct is as normal as any teenager. Somewhat intimidating but a huge nerd at the core.

But yeah, soulmates and soulmarks. Prompto had expected that he’ll be mark less, one of the few that don’t have a soulmate.

He is already marked after all, with the bar code forever inked into his skin, and another is one too many.

He can’t deny the relief his soulmark brings him. The comfort that it brings, that the simple words of ‘ _I hate carrots_ ’, is startling.

He has two marks now, one is a heavy weight on his chest and the other a solace from that weight.

Prompto feels content with the knowledge that he’s the same as everyone else.

He is human.

It feels breathtaking.

His mother hums an old lullaby as he finally, finally lets his tears fall. His face hidden behind her hand, protecting him from the world for a while.

He’ll be fine but for now he lets himself cry for the ’what if’s, for the ‘maybes’. Maybe, just a little bit, he cries for the love he aches to have, to hold, and to treasure.

Prompto holds his mother’s wrist like a lifeline.

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto’s best friend is a prince.

The Prince.

Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.

And Noct can be surprisingly stubborn if he sets his mind to it.

“Buddy, are you sure about it?” Prompto asks as he lets himself be dragged along, “A sleepover is a big step for us, we’ll be best friends five-ever!”

Noct huffs a small laugh, shooting him a smile, but continues dragging Prompto along by the wrist. Prompto could see how excited Noct really is, and he finds himself beaming at the back of his head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Noct says as he unlocks the door to his apartment. Prompto is somewhat surprised that Noct remembered to lock his door this time, he has heard Ignis remind Noct to lock his front door enough times and Noct always forgetting to do it.

“Dude, I’m more surprised that you actually remembered to lock your front door this time!” Prompto digs his elbow at Noct’s side, laughing as he tries to avoid the retaliating punch on the arm but reacting a bit too late.

“Ouch!”

Noct only laughs at him while removing his shoes, the asshole.

“So,” Prompto begins while placing his overnight bag on the couch after removing his shoes, Noct making a beeline for the couch and flopping down, belly first, using his bag as a makeshift pillow.

“That can’t be comfortable, Noct.” he turns to look around the room, searching for a suitable pillow as replacement. The room is kinda messy, bags of chips here and there and the pillows on the couch suspiciously missing. Ignis mustn’t have visited lately.

“Don’t care.” is Noct’s muffled reply, already starting to doze off.

“I thought we were gonna have the best sleep over?” he asks, already expecting no reply. Oh, there it is! Padding over to the corner of the room, he scoops up the abandoned pillow on the floor. Urging Noct to sit up a bit, he quickly replaces his bag with the pillow.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

All he gets is a grumbled reply as he places his retrieved bag on the coffee table.

“Before you nap, Noct,” Prompto says with a grin, sitting down on the other side of the couch, “Is Ignis gonna come over? Or are we having take-out?”

“Take-out.”

“Oh!” Prompto brightens up, “Can we have that curry place that’s near here?”

“Sure, go ahead. Now let me nap.” is the muffled reply he receives.

“Sure thing buddy, last thing,” Prompto reaches over to pat Noct’s head for attention, “Any requests?”

Noctis gives him a long suffering groan and Prompto muffles his laugh with his hand, it’s always amusing how much Noct loves napping. But they have to eat, some sacrifices must be made.

Even if it’s only a few minutes of Noct’s nap time.

“No carrots-” he replies, yawning in the middle of his sentence. He buries his head again into the pillow and mutters,

“I hate carrots.”

Oh.

There it is. He feels the same burning sensation he had felt a few weeks ago. Exactly on his left ankle, where the same words were inked in his skin.

He planned on telling Noct about his soulmark sooner or later but it seems kind of futile now, seeing that he is his soulmate.

Holy shit, Noct is his soulmate.

It takes a few seconds for him to reply. Noct, noticing the silence, lifts his head from the pillow and stares at him. Lifting a brow in question.

“…You’re my soulmate.” Prompto finally blurts out. He could feel his face heating up, his heart beating fast, and his nerves short circuiting.

Noct does a double take at that, abruptly sitting up and leaving Prompto’s hand hanging awkwardly in mid-air.

Prompto watches as Noct quickly rolls up the right sleeve of his t-shirt, and staring at his bicep in wonder.

That must be where my words were, Prompto thinks, staring at Noctis. His reply of 'You're my soulmate.' He could still feel his heart beating faster than he could count. His nerves are fried and he could feel his restlessness growing. He places his hands in his lap and just-

Stares.

They must look amusing, with them both looking at each other like a deer stares at headlights.

Slowly, Prompto brings up his left foot up the couch and rolls up his pants.

And, oh.

There’s nothing there.

No words, as clear as the day he was born.

Prompto looks back at Noct and is greeted with a sight that takes his breath away.

Noct’s face splits into a brilliant grin and in the next moment, his arms are filled with a laughing prince.

Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum is the soulmate of Prompto Argentum.

He’s going to eat so much carrots after this.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love soulmate aus so much


End file.
